


- hoc erat in votis - this was among my prayers -

by otter



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:52:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otter/pseuds/otter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack didn't wake, but his fingers curled and dug a little into their new position, as if Jack wanted to burrow into Daniel's flesh and make a home there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	- hoc erat in votis - this was among my prayers -

The hand on Daniel's back was warm and heavy, an anchor that pinned him belly-down on the mattress and demanded that he remain where he was. Jack's trigger finger twitched a little in his sleep, and his breath brushed Daniel's shoulder over and over again, warm and moist; it was almost a physical touch, like the wet swipe of a tongue.

The air smelled like sex and sage, and Jack sighed in his sleep.

For a very long time, Daniel didn't stir. He breathed in time with Jack, like keeping cadence, and he watched the square of sunlight on the floor as it stretched, lengthened, and slowly turned from yellow-white to deep orange, marking the passage of time. When the crickets outside began to sing a warm welcome to the approaching twilight, Daniel finally moved, rolled himself over very slowly and let Jack's hand drag along his back, up and over his hip to rest in the curve there, that dip between cords of muscle.

Jack didn't wake, but his fingers curled and dug a little into their new position, as if Jack wanted to burrow into Daniel's flesh and make a home there.

Jack looked tired even in his sleep; the lines around his mouth were carved deep and shadowed, and there were countless little cuts scattered on his chest, schrapnel wounds that were still dark red and bright pink, not yet healed. They wouldn't scar, and Daniel thought he might even miss them; earlier in the day, he'd traced over the little ridges of them with his fingers, reading them like braille, like glyphs, like ancient carvings on alien worlds. He knew the language of Jack's flesh now, could read and speak it like a native, could communicate with touch and tongue.

Jack's eyes flickered rapidly in bruise-dark sockets, his brows drew together in a frown, and his fingers twitched again. Daniel wondered if Jack was dreaming, or if he was. He thought about leaning in to kiss Jack's lips, drawing Jack out of dreaming with the suction of his mouth, the gentle tug of his hand on Jack's cock. But his muscles were still burning, and his brain still felt fuzzy and not-quite-right, so he didn't move, and Jack didn't move either; they were almost-touching and Jack's breath was puffing out against his lips.

Daniel sighed, like returning a kiss, and let his eyes fall shut, a blink so long and lazy that it nearly became sleep again.

When he opened his eyes again, Jack was looking at him, and the reflection of dying sunlight from the open window turned Jack's eyes copper-orange. Jack shifted slightly forward, almost imperceptibly, but close enough for a kiss; their mouths met, and the tip of his tongue flickered against Daniel's lower lip. He didn't move back again; he stayed so close that every breath of air was shared between them and when Jack spoke, his lips rubbed against Daniel's as if sound couldn't adequately bridge the distance between them.

Daniel let his eyes fall shut. Jack's voice said, "You look like you've had this dream before." His voice was rough and low with sleep, and when his tongue flickered out to wet his lips, he left moisture on Daniel's, too, like collateral damage.

Daniel sighed, and Jack shifted just enough to touch his lips carefully to each of Daniel's eyelids. "What do you mean?" Daniel murmured.

Jack shrugged minutely, tightened his grip on Daniel's hip, and squeezed in a little closer to start nibbling at Daniel's shoulder. He said, "You look like you're waiting to wake up and find out that none of this is real."

Daniel thought about it for a moment, and then said, "That would be nice."

Jack's chuckle was intimate and low, his mouth pressed close to Daniel's ear. "Careful, Daniel," he said. "You'll hurt my feelings." He rolled Daniel onto his back, pressed himself between Daniel's legs, used his own weight to pin Daniel to the bed.

Daniel turned his head and tried not to press back with his hips, but Jack was insistent, already rubbing and sliding their bodies together, and kissing and kissing and kissing. When he finally let Daniel breathe, he buried his face against Daniel's neck and panted, "Why do you resist me? It is clear that you want this body. It is yours. Take it." Daniel growled his frustration but made no reply, so Jack nipped at his shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. "Perhaps," he suggested, "you need more time in the sarcophagus to make you more comfortable with your situation. Hmm?"

Daniel whimpered, but Jack -- his Jack, the real Jack -- was still asleep and dreaming, and could not hear.

\- the end -


End file.
